


Leaves Clinging to their Branches

by Sensha_do



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Seasonal - Autumn, Yuri, tea time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensha_do/pseuds/Sensha_do
Summary: Time is inevitably moving forward - but, really, only for her. And isn't that the problem?
Relationships: Hakurei Reimu/Yakumo Yukari
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Leaves Clinging to their Branches

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been sitting in my documents for some time. I've got a real thing for time-sensitive pairings, especially in Touhou: YukaReimu, AliMari, SakuRemi, etc. - the natural drama of a long life and a short one in love is great.
> 
> Enjoy~

"It was the time of year, the time of day, for small insistent sadness to pass into the texture of things. Dusk, silence, iron chill. Something lonely in the bone."

- _White Noise,_ Don Dellilo

* * *

There is a hole in the parchment-tinted, translucent rice paper covering the sliding door where chilly autumn air whispers into the room in nature's voice. A spear of sunlight pierces through the same whole to glare against a glazed clay teapot on a shelf. The teapot is old, colored by time to a mud-green patina. An heirloom handed down from miko to miko. Reimu thinks that she should repair the hole in the door, but hasn't made a move to do so in the few days since Marisa had accidentally punctured it with her broom (the witch grimaced, then laughed, then flew away in a shower of rainbow stars, dodging Reimu's sealing needles all the while). She lets the hole stare back. It's too late in the year for there to be bugs using it to get in, and anyway, she didn't want to have to go to the human village to buy supplies. She is putting off her last trip before the cold of the winter fully sets in. Part of it is laziness. Part of it is her stubborn denial of what the winter means.

She sits on her knees atop a soft pillow with a thick green quilt wrapped around her shoulders. Before her, on the squat oak table, a cup of dark houjicha tea steams slowly upwards and dissipates in front of her face. Although it's already the early afternoon, there hasn't been a visitor to the shrine, or to herself, yet. She tells herself that she doesn't mind; there's little she likes more than a lazy day. From outside comes the sound of Aun sweeping the stone court and steps of the shrine, the soft scrape of straw on rock, and hears too the conspicuous absence of Kasen. It's refreshing not to be lectured at, or to have the hermit performing some business or another with animals anywhere near the Hakurei shrine. Later on, Reimu knows that she has to repair a few of the lamps that line the path up towards the shrine, and maybe repaint the tori, but nothing compels her upwards. She ignores the nagging insistence that something - _someone_ \- is missing, that there is a clock somewhere ticking time away that she can't get back.

Reimu takes a sip of the hot tea and places the cup down onto the table just as the door slides open. She grimaces, hiding her face from the bright November sun, which seems to purposefully slant into her eyes as if it were aiming. "Oi," she groans. "Close the door. The sun's coming in."

"Sorry, sorry!" Minoriko Aki apologizes. "I probably shouldn't have stopped by without saying something first." Shoe-less as always, she doesn't even bother to slide into a pair of the house slippers Reimu keeps by the door. Nature gods and animal-youkai were the ones who dirtied Reimu's home the worst. between their natural inclinations and disregard for human manners. Minoriko stands at the threshold with the bright yellow sunlight streaming behind her and her red eyes seem to glow in the sharp glare. For a brief moment her nature as a goddess appears more real. Closer to reality anyway, regardless of how she acts or how young she appears.

"That's not why I'm complaining. Shut the door. It's getting colder in here, too."

The goddess smiles contritely at Reimu. She's dressed as she always is, in a clay-brown dress, her hair adorned with plump purple grapes, and she smells of the earth and of sweet potatoes. Reimu isn't sure if it's coming from the girl's famous homemade perfume or from whatever it is she's hiding in the wicker basket hanging off the crook of her elbow. Minoriko takes a look around the empty room before shifting the handle of the basket into her clasped hands in front of her. She steps in towards the table, but doesn't sit down.

"This is a bit far from home for you, no?" Reimu asks while she rises from her seat. The blanket she'd wrapped around her shoulders falls to the floor in a soft shuffle. Minoriko laughs like a breeze through wheat-grass and gives a lighthearted shrug of admittance. Apparently she's gotten over her fear that the miko wants to eat her. Reimu waves at the table in a lazy hurry. "Sit, sit. I'll get some tea."

"Oh no, that won't be necessary." the girl waves her off. "I have too many places to be today. I'm taking the last of the harvest around to some of our friends in Gensokyo - the humans always donate a bit of the surplus for a blessing. There was a really good harvest this year! I even got Shizuha to help deliver stuff today, even though she said she already did her job for the year. "

Reimu screws up her face at the mention of donations, but sighs the annoyance away. New Years isn't so far away. She'd get donations then. Hopefully. "Friends, eh?" Reimu smirks. "Trying to get some favors from the rest of us? I know the human village already likes you. I'm sure the rest of Gensokyo can't have anything against someone who gives 'em food yearly either."

"Not at all!"

"Alright, I gotcha. Anyway, have some tea, will you? I'm sure you're thirsty if you've been spending all day traveling. You've at least gotta be cold." Normally she wouldn't be so insistent, but Reimu doesn't want to be indebted to the goddess for the gift she's brought. The last thing she needs is some new debt to add to all the others.

"I suppose I can stay for a sip. Do you have anything herbal? Something that'll go well with -"

"Just some hochija. I'm not exactly well-off here, you know."

A few minutes pass by the time Reimu returns to the living room from the small kitchen. She's carrying a tray with a cup of hot tea and a small plate of mismatched sweets. A piece of slightly too-old strawberry shortcake sits alongside rejected and misshapen mochi that the moon rabbits living in Eientei didn't think they could sell. Minoriko has already laid out a selection of fruits and vegetables from her wicker basket onto what seems to be a cloth made of sunset-autumn leaves: there are opulent round persimmons almost as orange as the leaves they lay on; brown mushrooms with long, dirty stems and heads speckled and mottled with darker dots; chestnuts, still wrapped in their papery skin; and, of course, firm, earthy sweet potatoes - among a few other odds and ends. For all the bother that having a visitor brings, Reimu is glad to be able to save at least a bit of money the next time she visits the human village. Minoriko reaches for the mochi, inspecting one of the lumpy rice flour treats before popping it into her mouth in one bite.

"Thanks," Reimu says, wrapping the vegetables back into their leafy sheaf. She reties the twine around it. It isn't nearly as neat as when the goddess had done it, but she pushes it aside to make room on the table. She'll just be unrolling it again later.

Minoriko takes a sip of tea before answering. "Don't mention it. I wouldn't be a goddess of the harvest if I didn't enjoy giving people food."

"You curse them too sometimes, no?" Reimu asks, eyebrow raised questioningly. She takes a small bite of the cake. It's stale, but edible, and so she takes another. The strawberry caving into the deflating whipped cream isn't the brightest red anymore either. It's a bit bruised, but the miko takes it in one forkful. It's sweeter, so close to rot.

Minoriko doesn't even look guilty when she shrugs her shoulders. "Well, they're not always the best worshipers. And if you didn't know it," she narrows her eyes and tries to smirk menacingly. Reimu isn't impressed. "Nothing makes humans take you seriously like a punishment every once in a while. The following years are all really good, worship-wise! Until they get complacent again, and, well, you get it." She finishes off the last of the mochi, acting as if what she had just said was common sense. In a way, it was to those who lived in Gensokyo. That old disgust of gods and youkai rises in the miko again, and she holds back on rolling her eyes with all of her strength. Getting into an argument would just prolong Minoriko's stay and cut away into her own relaxation time. Soon enough there'd likely be some kind of incident she could take her anger out with. Little feels better in life than doing her job and taking down some youkai, or spirits, or gods. Even if it means that she can't just lay around all day.

Minoriko stretches her arms out in a yawn. "I don't usually look forward to disappearing in the winter, but this year's was really a busy harvest. A nice, long stretch of, well, I suppose it's non-existence?" She places a finger on her chin and looks up inquiringly. Whatever it is, I can't wait~"

At the mention of the winter - at the mention of a season long disappearance, Reimu shudders. She wraps the blanket around her shoulders again as if to convince Minoriko that it was just the cold that affected her, that it wasn't the promise of the abyssal winter, dark and drawn out, freezing and full of unsettled feelings. Still, it doesn't look like the goddess even noticed the conspicuous shiver. She seems to be in her own little world eating the mochi in big bites, wiping some of the powdered residue off of her apple-red lips with a finger, and then licking it off. Reimu takes another bite of cake. The swishing sound of Aun sweeping outside has quieted, and in its place Reimu hears sparrows chirping, a harmony with the wind-rustled leaves.

The sparrows would be gone for the winter soon, too.

"…Are you even listening, Reimu?" Minoriko asks. Reimu tuns to the girl, surprised that she had zoned out. She blushes a bit; she was going to call Minoriko out for the same.

"My bad." the miko says unapologetically. Minoriko pouts, but doesn't press the issue. The goddess moves out from the table and grabs her wicker basket, once more resting the handle in the crook of her elbow.

"Well, it's no matter. I have a few more stops to make, and the Forest of Magic isn't the easiest to get through. Thanks for the mochi!" she bows.

The littlest pang of guilt hits Reimu, but she doesn't feel all that bad about Minoriko leaving so soon. It's not like she was invited. The miko stands to clear table while Minoriko walks to the sliding front door, and before she leaves Reimu calls out "Thanks for the vegetables!" on her way to the kitchen with the empty tray.

She hears the door slide open, then close, and then it's silent in the Hakurei Shrine home.

When Reimu returns to the table, her tea is cold. The room itself feels chillier, though it is still only the afternoon, and in the patches of light where the sun streams in Reimu is sure it's warm. There's something of a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that only churns more whenever she thinks of the cold, or of the upcoming winter.

She doesn't get a chance to sulk. In the literal blink of an eye, as she gazes at one of those patches of sunlight coloring the tatami floor hay-yellow, a gap appears. She's seen these so many times before, but the sight never fails to ravage her perception for a moment, as if watching the reflection phase into a solid presence. It floats there, if it could be said to be floating, not so much in the air as it is in the reality of the room. It's at once both flat and fathomless, dotted with impossible eyes and blacker than anything Reimu has a word for. Tied at either end of the gap is a cute red bow, like a girl's accessory. Something dark and unknowable presented with a pretty bow; the concept wasn't far away from its creator.

"Good afternoon, Reimu." comes Yukari's voice as she steps out, lower half first, from the gap that appeared in the room. Her voice is regal and teasing, and Reimu pictures her holding her chin in her hand with a near-smirk before she sees the woman actually doing it. The miko gulps inaudiably, but keeps her expression fixed and bored. She was waiting for this, without knowing that she was waiting for this. Yukari steps out fully, stretching her arms above her head in a yawn; this makes her look even taller than she usually does, a giant there in her room. Reimu devours the sight: the cotton-white dress that hides the woman's body while still, amazingly, managing to show her curves, and the violet tabbard extending outward, pushed by her breasts. The blonde hair flowing from whatever unknowable wind blows through the gaps like a lion's mane. Those golden eyes peeking through half-closed lids, at once beckoning and strangely revolting, at once daring Reimu to reach forward and to shirk back. She settles for a sip of her tea instead.

"Yukari." she answers. "Whatever you're up to, don't bother me with it."

"Why would you suspect that I'm up to anything at all?" Yukari plops down beside Reimu at the table, her head once again resting in the palm of her hand. She smells faintly of rose water. Reimu grumbles something unintelligible into her tea. "Oh, I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"I didn't."

"I know." she smiles. She stretches her hand across the table and pulls Reimu's tea to herself, and with a wink she takes a sip. It's all Reimu can do not to shiver in excitement as she watches the woman's pretty pink lips drink from the same place she just had. They curve and glisten, those lips, like a frozen river.

"What'd you stop by for?" Reimu asks. She pulls the cup back from the woman slowly, trying not to show her rush to drink once again from the teacup. She knows she fails when she sees those golden eyes burn brighter, but gulps - and keeps gulping, nonetheless.

"Nothing. Just thought I'd pop in. I've heard some _rumors_ \- "

"I don't want to hear them."

"Isn't it your job to deal with incidents? Although, I'm sure these days its also your hobby too."

"It's my job to exterminate youkai. I would think you wouldn't want me doing that so much," she eyes the woman up and down, "all things considered."

"I've heard some rumors that those Moryia shrine gods are up to something new this autumn."

Reaching backwards for the fallen blanket, Reimu wraps it around herself once more. "Look, if it's actually anything, I'll deal with it when it happens."

"I suppose w'll just have to wait and see." Yukari says flippantly. Her golden eyes flit around the room, and then she stands up herself, taking a slow stroll around the perimeter. Reimu, suddenly colder, suddenly on edge, watches. Yukari picks up a flower vase from a shelf by the wall and places it down. It'd been empty before, and after Reimu blinks, it is now filled with pink carnations, whose million pink petals are as fresh as spring, here in the midst of autumn.

"I thought this room could use a bit of livening up." Yukari says. She continues her stroll, running a hand against the wall, then the oak beams, then the paper of the sliding door.

"Oh? What happened here?"

" _Marissa_ happened." Reimu huffs, downing the rest of her tea.

"Hmm - you might want to fix this before winter."

Like her blood itself freezes, all of Reimu goes cold in an instant. She tightens her hand around the ceramic tea cup, still warm from its former liquid. Hopes, for moment, that it might shatter - that it might give her something concrete to cry about.

"Reimu?" Yukari calls, after the girl fails to respond.

"I know. I thought I could...hold off until it's actually winter." She gestures to the bundle of vegetables and fall foods still wrapped and sitting on the low table. "Minoriko delivered me some food from the harvest just today."

"I thought I smelled that girl here." Yukari says.

For a long moment there is silence - just silence and golden sunlight burning through it, that hole giving a glimpse of the crisp blue sky outside.

There's a sinking feeling in her gut before Reimu speaks next, licking her lips to extend the silent moment even just a fraction of a second longer.

"When do you consider it winter?" she asks dancing around the real questions waiting in her chest, like _when are you going away? When will I be left alone?_

Yukari doesn't answer. She instead finishes her walk around the room, taking a seat again beside Reimu. The usual smirk is gone, just a shadow of it left in what is a more - Reimu almost doesn't believe she sees it - apologetic smile. The look is almost more distracting than the heat of Yukari's body.

"I'll consider it winter once I feel tired enough."

"How are you feeling now?" Reimu gulps, looking back down at the teacup in her hand.

"I'm still awake."

"That's not an answer and you know it." Reimu pouts. She shakes her head, trying to clear out the clouds, the melancholy, to once again return to that sardonic edge she's used to.

"Oh, might you be worried about something?"

"Quite the opposite." She slaps a hand down onto the table. "If you're hibernating, there are way fewer chances for an incident to take place." She swallows down her feelings. "Unless you scheme while you sleep."

Those plump lips make words but all Reimu can see is the way they move in the light. "Don't tempt me now, Hakurei Miko."

Reimu opens her mouth to answer, but never gets a word out. "Ah, too late, I've been tempted," Yukari says. She reaches out and suddenly Reimu is being pulled - closer, closer, and then their lips are crushed against one another - moving to the force of instincts Reimu didn't know she had. Tongues are warring, hands grasping hair, running down soft, slender necks. Reimu moans and she is not even slightly embarrassed. Yukari feels good. Yukari _is_ good.

And then, just as suddenly, they're apart again. Yukari's eyes are brighter than a harvest moon, and her chest heaves, and if Reiumu could break out of her shock she'd pull the woman back in again.

Instead Yukari breathes a deep breath and pulls back just slightly. Another one of her gaps produces a handkerchief with which she wipes off Reimu's lips, dots the side of her mouth, and then she folds it neatly, does the same for herself. "Ah, you had the strawberry shortcake." Yukari says, seemingly at random. "I was watching for it in your kitchen - if you let it get any older I would've whisked it away myself."

"You're the worst."

"I've been called worse."

Her heart is beating too quickly - Reimu wants to ask a million questions, have a million more kisses. She wants to open up a futon and keep Yukari, keep her here, in her room all winter. She could look at her sleeping face for the whole season. Cuddle up beside her when the nights are cold and lonely, without the need for any of that pesky talking or baring her feelings to the woman.

There are other considerations, too. Reimu is constantly counting down her - _their_ time. Yukari is immortal, probably, but Reimu is not. They both know that their time together is vanishing, like it's being sucked into the abyss of one of Yukari's gaps. How many more years do they have together? How many more winters?

"When's winter?" Reimu repeats. She hangs her head, hoping to hide her eyes behind her bangs.

"Don't worry." Yukari answers." There are still leaves on the trees."

Reimu spies, through the little hole in the paper door, a fluttering swirl of color within the trees, the final grasp of dying maple leaves clinging to their branches, and holds Yukari's soft hand beneath the table. She prays for that same strength.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Reviews, criticisms, and responses are all welcome!


End file.
